You're Nobody 'til Somebody Loves You
by WitheringSage
Summary: Lancelot tries his best to woo Sophia, but none of his usual tactics seem to work.


**You're Nobody 'til Somebody Loves You**

_You're nobody till somebody loves you_

_You're nobody till somebody cares_

_You might be king, you might possess,_

_the world and its gold_

_But gold won't bring you happiness, _

_when you're growing old_

Chronology: Tristan is 29. Lancelot is 27. Raja is 19.

Lancelot ran his large hands up her thigh, finding the nest of tight curls damp with her desire. He didn't wait, but plunged into her wet channel, using long, hard strokes, lifting her hips to gain as much access as he could to her womb. He groaned hot breath into her neck, reveling in her thighs tightly clamped around his waist, meeting his every amorous thrust of desire. He held her arms above her head, thrusting harder and faster, raising both of them to the apex of pleasure.

"Sophia!" he moaned. "Sophia, gods, you're so tight!"

So invested was he in his love making, he did not notice her struggles, her wrists coming free of his hold, and her strong push on his chest that had him toppling naked off of his bed, landing on the floor in a heap.

"Who the hell is Sophia!" the woman accused, incensed at being called by another woman's name. She hastily gathered up her scattered garbs, putting them on with haste.

"Bastard!" she spat.

It took Lancelot a minute to regain his bearings, realizing that he had been imagining Sophia writhing beneath him, and totally unaware of this blond, curvy wench that he had picked up from the tavern. He said nothing as she finished dressing, not even uttering an apology. The disappointment that it was not Sophia he was making love to filled his mind. The slam of the door barely registered, he picked himself up from the hard floor, donning his breeches. Lancelot flopped back on his bed, staring at the ceiling.

He had returned early this afternoon from an arduous nine day patrol, the sixth day being attacked by Woads. The back of his right hand had a gash on it, and would have been completely missing if it had not been for his cousin. He sighed heavily, closing his eyes, drifting off to sleep with Sophia's angelic face in his mind.

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The next morning had Lancelot rising early, eager to get to the tavern. Perhaps he would see Sophia this morning. She was an elusive woman. Ever since that night he kissed her she had been avoiding him, always in a polite way though. She didn't respond to his compliments like other women did, but hadn't they already established why she didn't? What was it she had said those months ago? He praises women so often that his good tidings are as valuable as dirt? Yet, he meant them when he said it to Sophia. Trust him to fall for an intelligent woman that was not so easily won.

Lancelot kept his eyes open walking through the streets for his brown eyed beauty. He did not spot her by the time he arrived at the tavern, so he simply took a seat next to his cousin and Tristan, the two earliest risers. The other men would no doubt be turning up in the near future.

"How is your hand?" Raja asked him.

"Hmmph," Tristan noised. "You should be worrying about yourself, not his little scratch."

Raja shot daggers at him, poking him in the ribs.

"Doesn't hurt," Lancelot assured her. A plate of food was set before him, bacon, bread, eggs. He dug in, eyes on the door.

"I don't think she is working this morning, Lancelot," Raja told him, eating her porridge.

"She's avoiding me." Lancelot didn't much care that Tristan could hear these few complaints. He seemed to know everything anyway. "Where does that woman _go_ during the day?"

But like a miracle, the door opened, sun shining through and in his angel walked...with Galahad by her side. Lancelot tensed instantly. Galahad?

The young knight had his hand on Sophia's lower back, guiding her towards the table, taking a seat next to her.

"Look who I found," he said, beaming.

They exchanged greetings, Lancelot giving her his most sincere smile.

"It's good to see you looking well, Sophia," Lancelot said. "The sunlight complements you."

Raja discreetly rolled her eyes, and Tristan smirked in his cup. Her cousin simply was not getting it.

"Don't listen to him," Galahad warned her, "he's probably said that to a dozen women this morning already."

She laughed. "I don't doubt that." But she smiled at Lancelot.

A flush crept up his neck. Bested by the pup. He didn't like how he sat so close to Sophia, chatting with her so easily. He was beginning to realize he had a bit of a jealous streak. Every time he saw Sophia his insides began to flutter, and his heart began to beat faster. He longed to feel his lips against hers again. Once was not enough.

"Would you like to join me for a drink this evening, Sophia?" Lancelot said the words without thinking. He'd be damned if Galahad would have one up on him.

"Oh," she seemed taken aback. "I have to work this evening."

"After your shift then," Lancelot said.

Galahad was seeing that he was losing the upper hand. But a light danced inside of him when he saw a woman approach.

"Lancelot!" a woman tittered. "Why did you not come to my chambers last night?" She slithered into a space next to him, nudging Raja aside, causing her to bump into Tristan.

The dark knight's mouth was agape at the sudden intrusion. Who was this woman? She leaned towards him, her breasts brushing against him arm. "You left me lonely when I was wide open for you," she pouted.

Galahad stifled his laughter, while Raja was beginning to get annoyed. It was too early for this mindless blubber. Raja didn't have very many female friends, she found that most of them were catty, petty, and they never failed to treat her with a thinly veiled amount of disdain when they first met her. But the instant they found out that she was Lancelot's cousin, or good friends with all the knights, they would put on their friendly act. On the other hand, there were women whom Raja found genuinely nice, and good hearted. This woman, however, was not one of them.

"Would you like to go for a walk?" Galahad asked Sophia.

"That would be lovely," she replied, none too eager to remove herself from the gaudy woman's presence.

Lancelot was thoroughly frustrated, his chances at getting further into Sophia's good graces this morning was ruined.

Raja and Tristan moved down a little to get a comfortable distance from Lancelot's aggressor. Her name was Cora, but Raja was certain her poor cousin didn't remember. The only thing that kept Raja from getting up from the table was that she had not finished her breakfast. She also knew Tristan would nag her to no end if she didn't eat. Nine days on patrol did not exactly provide a good chance for filling food and as Raja did not eat meat, the hares that Tristan caught remained unconsumed by her. Raja ate the rest of her porridge and stood, Tristan with her. Lancelot gave her a desperate look; Cora was still rubbing her breasts against him, whispering more naughty phrases in his ear.

"Lancelot," Raja said, coming to his aid, "don't you have to see to Adonis this morning?"

Lancelot stood abruptly, causing the woman to lean back quickly. "I do. Thanks for reminding me." He turned towards Cora. "You understand?"

"Of course," Cora said seductively. "Will I see you tonight?" She stood, and gave him another pout.

"Perhaps," he told her, leaving the tavern with Raja and Tristan.

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When they reached the stables, they each attended to their horses. Raja and Tristan went for a ride leaving him to his own thoughts. He absently brushed Adonis, his mind on no one else but Sophia. His blood simmered thinking about her with Galahad. She couldn't possibly be interested in him. This was proving to be more complicated than he had thought. After they'd shared that kiss, he was certain that it would be a smooth glide from there. They had talked, but after two days she had gone back to her own living quarters, and it was as if the kiss had never happened. He sighed and sat on a bale of hay, Adonis nuzzled his head comfortingly.

"You're lucky you don't have to deal with women," Lancelot said to his horse.

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Tristan and Raja sat on a blanket at their place in the forest. Raja leaned back against Tristan, his arms around her protectively. He kissed the curve of her neck affectionately, her silky hair brushing against his face. They sat in silence, listening to the breeze, Dyne, Odin, Horus and Penelo not far away. Raja took one of Tristan's large, rough hands in hers, brushing it against her face, rubbing her thumb over the pulse near his wrist.

"Do you think Lancelot is serious about Sophia?" Raja asked Tristan, turning her head to look up at Tristan.

He shrugged, and Raja felt his muscles ripple against her through his clothes. "Do you?"

"I think he genuinely likes her, yes." Tingles went down her spine feeling Tristan's other hand sweep her hair over her shoulder, exposing her skin to more of his lip's tender whispers.

Tristan didn't envy Lancelot's situation one bit. The lack of communication, the waiting, trailing after Sophia like a besotted ghost. They hardly knew each other. It made Tristan more grateful by the day that he had Raja to wake up to every morning. That there was someone in his life that knew his thoughts and feelings. He never had to wait, because she was always there for him when he needed her. Their bond went back ten years; he couldn't even imagine himself without Raja. What it would be like to lose her, a notion that he could never bring himself to face the reality of.

The passion between them only grew moment by moment, never changing into something predictable or monotonous. He still got the same spread of warmth in his chest when he looked at her, the same sparks and pleasurable shudders when their lips touched. Every kiss and touch was a statement of their love for one another. And _his_ statement to anyone else that _she_ was _his_. He had a place on this earth, and it was with Raja. He was nobody without her.

"When's the last time I made love to you?" His voice was husky with desire as he nibbled her earlobe.

"Hmm," Raja mused, reveling in his touch, "twice this morning, I believe."

"Only twice?" Tristan said in mock astonishment. "I must not have been myself. Forgive me for neglecting you."

Their bodies repositioned so they could capture one another's lips. Tristan gently guided her down on the blanket, covering her body with his.

"I love you, Tristan."

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Lancelot was just leaving the stables when he saw Sophia walking nearby, without Galahad. His spirits instantly lifted and he walked swiftly towards his elusive angel. He stopped right in front of her path, causing her to stop short.

"You surprised me!" she said, her hand on her chest.

"Hopefully, it was a good sort of surprise then," Lancelot said, reaching for her hand before he could stop himself to place a kiss on her hand.

She blushed, sliding her hand out of his without trying to offend him. "You're always just full of charm, aren't you? But your knight mind tricks won't work on me."

"Then what can I do to make them work?"

She smiled wryly, shaking her head. "Just stop trying."

His grin faltered. Obviously, he was still going about this all wrong. He looked to the side to see Tristan and Raja trotting into the stables. Lancelot was about to reply when he felt something weigh down on his hair. Then he heard Sophia's stifled laughter.

"What the-" Lancelot touched his hair, pulling it away to see thick, goopy bird shit on his fingers. He made a sound of disgust and flicked his hand around to rid himself of the filth. "It's not funny!" he insisted.

Raja and Tristan came out of the stables, walking towards them. Penelo flew down to Tristan's outstretched arm.

"Your bird just shit on me!" Lancelot yelled. "Disgusting-" But he was silenced by another warm dropping of bird poop, this time on his forehead, dripping onto his cheek. He cried out in outrage.

Horus perched himself on Raja's hand, cawing triumphantly.

"Keep those birds away from me or I'll feed them to the wolves!" Lancelot ordered.

"Oh, poor, cousin," Raja said through her laughter. Other people on the street witnessing Lancelot's embarrassment laughed along.

The dark knight walked off in humiliation.

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A few hours later, Raja knocked on Lancelot's door.

"Oh, come in," he answered petulantly. He had scrubbed his head and hair vigorously, numerous times, and he still wasn't sure if the smell of crap was completely gone.

She smiled at him as she closed the door, then took a seat by the window. "Are you okay?"

"Okay? _Okay?_" He stood up and began to pace the floor. "Okay?! I save her life," Lancelot stabbed at the air, "and what do I get? Snubbed for Galahad, shit on! Really? What am I doing wrong? What else can I do to make her understand that I am attracted to her? I've tried everything." He sat heavily on the chair across from her, elbows on the table.

"Everything?" Raja said, her eyebrow arced.

"What else is there?"

"Have you tried wiping the smirk off of your face?"

He raised his head to look at her, not quite comprehending.

"Lottie, I know you are genuinely attracted to her. But I don't think you realize the tone you use with her is the same conceited, arrogant tone you use with every other woman. And Sophia notices that. How is she supposed to know you're sincere when you speak to her like you do any other woman?"

"But I _do_ mean it," he insisted. "That's how I speak."

"No," she said, "that's the man you want everyone to _think_ you are speaking. In your head, you mean it, but you've been giving the same tired compliments to women, in the same way that it is slowly becoming ingrained in you. People have this false perception of you, especially women. I know they like you, but none of them know you. If you died the one thing that they'll remember is that you were great in bed."

"Well, that's not so bad," Lancelot joked, but became serious again.

"How is she supposed to get to know you when you're hiding behind a mask?"

"I'm not hiding," he denied.

"Then what are you doing?" She leaned her head to the side, giving him that look that meant she thought he wasn't being completely honest. As was her way, she didn't push him, or offer possibilities that would help him find the answer quicker. She just left him alone with a soft kiss on his forehead, to contemplate in silence.

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Lancelot finally made an appearance in the tavern that evening. Raja poured him a cup of ale the second he plopped himself down across from her. Despite the good laugh she had received, she did feel a bit of sympathy for her cousin. He was trying so hard to get Sophia in his clutches that he was making a fool of himself.

"What the hell," Lancelot seethed. His eyes appeared black at what he was seeing across the bar.

Both Tristan and Raja turned to look at Galahad dancing with Sophia among the others.

"What the hell does she see in him!" Lancelot spoke. He poured himself another cup. Wallowing in his misery and consternation, he was not responding to the plethora of nymphs eyeing him. Lancelot continued to watch Sophia dance with Galahad, and for a moment, Sophia turned her head and locked eyes with him, she smiled at him in greeting. But it flickered, leaving Lancelot disappointed...but he knew why.

"Lancelot, love!" Cora made her showing for the second time that day.

He groaned inwardly. This was the second time that day this wench had ruined his connection with Sophia. He wasn't having it.

"Woman," he snapped, "take your cheap offerings elsewhere."

Cora's eyes widened, her face flushed with rage and embarrassment. She was speechless.

"Did you hear me? Be gone, harpy!" He made a shooing motion with his hand.

"How dare you speak to me like that!" Cora fumed. She would have continued if not for the shrill scream she let out when she saw a mouse scamper on the table.

"Oh, dear," Raja said with exaggerated concern, "you should probably hurry away, because mice are attracted to hysterics," she told Cora. When Cora's eyes opened wider, Raja continued. "There are probably dozens more heading this way. Really, you wouldn't want them crawling up your dress. They are very drawn to warm places if you know what I mean."

Cora hurried off, not wanting to hear anymore about the life of mice.

"Where was your mouse this morning?" Lancelot asked, laughing, his spirits lifting a bit.

"Please," Raja said raising her finger, "his name is Muhammad. Have some respect." She let Muhammad set himself on her shoulder.

"This is why you have few female friends," Tristan pointed out affectionately, his fingers brushing her neck as he swept her hair back.

Lancelot sighed and looked down into his empty cup. Raja and Tristan stood up, making their departure. She kissed her cousin on the forehead and said to him, "Wipe the smirk off of your face."

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Lancelot waited outside of the tavern for Sophia. He was looking desperate but he didn't care. He had to remedy things before the gap became wider. It was late, and quiet outside, he could hear the commotion going on inside. When she stepped outside, his heart began to beat rapidly.

She jumped when she turned and looked at him. "You-"

"...surprise?" he finished.

"You do have the knack for appearing out of nowhere," she conceded, wrapping her cloak around her. "Who are you waiting for?"

"I thought that would be obvious. You, of course."

Her lips made a small "o."

"I thought I would see you safely to your home," he said.

"All right, I guess there is worse company than you."

"Good to hear."

They walked in silence for a bit, neither of them sure what to say to the other. Each step Lancelot took had him becoming more impatient. He sighed heavily.

"I mean what I say," he said to her.

She stopped and looked up at him, confused.

He bit his lip. "When I say you look nice, when I told you I thought you were beautiful. I meant that, and you just brush me off."

"Lancelot, I'm sorry, I didn't know. I just can't tell when you're being serious," she said regretfully.

"Well, I was then and I am now. Sophia, I like you, I do."

Sophia took in his words, but they didn't have the effect he would have liked. Instead, her eyes held shadows in them, shadows of a life of never having felt loved. A life without tenderness.

"You don't trust me." A question not a statement.

She looked at the ground, shaking her head. When she brought her head back up her eye caught a glint of light. She followed the sight and saw Tristan and Raja in each other's arms up by the wall. Her silver wedding ring. Lancelot followed her gaze.

"You know," she said quietly, "when you look at those two, it's almost impossible not to believe that a person can find someone to love, and to be loved back."

A wistful smile played on Lancelot's lips. He could agree with that she was saying. He had his brother knights, the loyalty between all of them. But it was something entirely different with Raja and Tristan. They were on a level that some people could only wish to be on.

"Do you know why I think everyone wants love so much?" They locked eyes. "So much that they don't even know they're looking for it?"

"Why?"

"Because it's the closest thing there is to magic. Someone who can keep you alive after you die. Telling people what you were like, who you were. Who will do that if you don't have somebody who knows you inside and out?" She let out a breath of air, self mocking laughter. "I'm sorry, I sound like an idiot."

"No, you don't." She didn't. He liked how she just said what she was feeling, didn't go around in circles. He looked back up at the wall, but his cousin and Tristan were gone. "Listen, Sophia, I know you have no reason to trust me or what I say, but I would like a chance to prove it to you. If you would give me a chance."

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Tristan and Raja watched from the shadows. They had noticed Lancelot and Sophia stop in their tread. Tristan held Raja to his chest, she listened to his heart beating, the warmth of his body spreading over her.

A small smile spread on Raja's lips when she saw Lancelot and Sophia share a gentle kiss.

"Can we go now?" Tristan said, kissing the top of her head. "You're shivering," he swooped her up in his arms to carry her, "and there are better ways I can think of to keep you warm."

_The world still is the same_

_You'll never change it_

_As sure as the stars shine above_

_You're nobody till somebody loves you_

_So find yourself somebody to love_

_-Frank Sinatra_

2/26/07


End file.
